


come what may, I'll be your friend

by Takykardi



Series: don't stray too far | Felix-centric oneshots [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Bang Chan is a Sweetheart, Basically just Felix hurting and Chan being soft, Domestic Disputes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Lee Felix (Stray Kids)-centric, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Self Confidence Issues, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26110936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takykardi/pseuds/Takykardi
Summary: He looks like them. So why doesn't he feel like one of them?or;Felix bottles everything up and Chan is there to unbottle it when the pressure gets too high
Relationships: Bang Chan & Lee Felix
Series: don't stray too far | Felix-centric oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927672
Comments: 12
Kudos: 222





	come what may, I'll be your friend

**Author's Note:**

> Hi
> 
> It's soft boi hour. I rewatched old Stray Kids vids and then this thing yeeted itself out of the ashes of my emotional breakdown.  
> No warnings except veeeeery slight language and quite a lot of self-critical Lee Felix.
> 
> Ty for reading ♡ would love to hear what you thought
> 
> Disclaimer; this work is purely and utterly fictional  
> Additional disclaimer: on the topic of mental health issues, make sure to not derive your information  
> solely from the world of fics, but also from trusted, medical sources and others dealing with them. I base my fics only on my own  
> experience. Ty ♡

Felix watched the radio host turn her attention to him with a radiant smile. He heard the question following right after, heard it loud and clear. So did the rest.

A question directed at him. 

_Answer,_ he ordered himself. But that was the problem. 

The correct terms sat somewhere in his brain, but they wouldn't resurface. Even though the question was a piece of cake to answer. _What’s your favorite part about performing, Felix?_

But he couldn’t remember the Korean word for _fans._ The fans, seeing their elated faces in the crowd, their blinking light sticks, that was his favorite part – but his brain was suddenly a useless, muddy swamp. What the hell was the Korean term for light stick? 

He didn’t know that either, and an embarrassingly long time had already passed. The rest were seated around him on both sides, tentatively chewing on their lips and peeking at him. He could decode their faces easily. They were weighing back and forth, ready to help him out but hesitant to do so. Because they knew he wanted to do it himself. 

He was desperate to. But he couldn’t, and all that exited his mouth was hacking and stuttering and absolutely nothing of use. All the attention was on him, and he wanted to sink through the floor. Right now. Sink right back to fucking down under-Australia.

The panic set in, in the form of puddles of cold sweat gathering in the nape of his neck, but Chan's warm palm settled around it the next moment. And then, he took care of it. Just like he had so many times before, and all Felix could do was sit there, blushing dumbly while their dear leader saved him again.

“He means to say that the fans are his favorite part,” Chan explained, in perfectly understandable Korean. 

The radio host's slightly tensed features unfurled, and something churned within Felix. Something nauseating and unidentified he couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Irrational jealousy?

Yep. Must be it. 

“Ah, I see, that's lovely...and don’t worry, Felix, you’ll get the hang of Korean soon,” the host attempted to smooth things over. Felix nodded stiffly, paying attention to the tone of her voice. He might be delusional, but it sounded almost...motherly...to him.

Motherly and patronizing. Didn't it?

He kept his mouth shut for the remainder of the interview. He refused to utter even a single peep, not when Chan tried to encourage him with soft pats to his knee, and not when Minho quietly mouthed _it’s okay_ from across the table. Not even then.

When it was finally over, Felix all but ripped the door open to escape the stuffy room as fast as he could.

“That was a lame ass interview,” Changbin stated once they were trudging towards the exit, and Seungmin seemed to agree fully.

“Uh, yeah. I mean she asked us how many times a week we go to the _gym_. Such vital information to find out.”

“Maybe it was just a sneaky way of trying to get me to flash my abs.”

Changbin threw Seungmin's midriff an offensively skeptical glance. “Abs? What abs?”

“Yah! Don’t even try, I’m ripped!”

Felix only listened to their bickering with one ear. He was busy hurrying towards the front door as fast as he could, to get away from this stupid building, this entire situation. He could see Chan attempting to catch up to him in his peripheral vision, so he picked up the speed, but so did his pursuer. He managed to flank him finally, slinging an arm around his shoulder to slow him down.

“Listen, Felix...I know you were upset by that…”

Well of course he knew, he always knew. He could practically read Felix like an open book.

“It’s fine, I don’t care.”

“You do...so wait a second –"

“I told you, I don't _care_. Let’s just go.” He shook himself loose, pushed the door open and flung himself onto the busy sidewalk, squinting to try to locate the car. He just wanted to go home, right now, because his throat felt tight but he refused to cry. He wouldn’t.

“No, I said _wait._ ” Chan had caught up to him again, and now he tugged on his sleeve to get him to stop. “It’s no big deal, Felix. It really isn’t. Like the host said, you’ll get the hang of it...you have all the time in the world to learn, okay –”

“Not a big deal, huh.” Felix's voice was suddenly cold steel as he swung around, burning anger flaring in his gut. “Easy for you to say, man. You know Korean, of course it's not a big deal to _you_.”

Chan retracted his hand. The rest were slowly gathering around them, confusion evident on their faces when hearing Felix’s uncharacteristically sharp tone. And he couldn't stop it. Couldn’t stop the pent up frustration from pouring out – all over the person who deserved it the least.

“Don't you just love to correct me, hm, _Christopher?_ ”

Puzzled, almond eyes stared back at him. Felix let out a taunting scoff. "Bet you feel like even more of a know-it-all leader when you get to show off? So perfect and bilingual and self-assured, everything an idol should be. But you know what, do me a favor and just stay out of it next time.”

Chan' arm fell limply to his side. “What the hell, Felix...? That’s not why I...I just wanted to help you...”

“That's sweet, but I don’t need your help, so –"

“ _Felix_.”

Minho's stern tone and pointed glare made Felix push the end of it back down. He automatically took a few steps back, gaze planted on the soggy concrete. .

“Yeah, you’re out of line, okay,” the elder warned, his hand curling protectively around Chan shoulder. “We get that it’s frustrating, we really do. But don’t take it out on us, please.”

The company car honked next to them. Chan looked like he’d been slapped in the face. By _Felix._

Felix who was supposed to be his best friend. 

The apology he attempted to dig out was wedged somewhere deep within him. It didn’t transpire. All that was in danger of releasing was more venom, more piercing words and he wired his jaw shut, tightly to prevent it.

The tension was palpable, laying heavy between all of them. Hyunjin swallowed to brace himself, before finally cutting through it.

“Guys...we need to get in, the car is waiting…”

Felix turned on his heels without a word. What he really wanted to do was take off down the street and run, run and run and keep on running and not stop until he’d left all of this behind. All of it. Chan bruised features and Minho's disappointed frown and Jeongin’s pained grimace. 

But he didn’t. He threw the door open and clambered in, leaving the rest of them awkwardly shifting on their feet outside. When they joined him he was already curled up in the solo seat in the back, with his forehead resting against the window, away from them.

They let him be, but he could feel Chan's gaze on him the whole way back. Even though he couldn’t see it. 

The space filled with mellow chatter after a while, but he didn’t focus on it. It faded into muffled background noise as he watched the tall buildings roll past, the busy traffic and masses of people – people who all looked like him. Koreans. He had eyes the color of coffee and a narrow nose and a pale complexion and a v-line face. He fit in here, he looked like he _belonged._

And yet, he didn’t. Not at all. _Such charmingly accented Korean,_ had been the radio host’s first comment earlier as he opened his mouth. And he’d just returned it with a spurt of awkward, rumbling laughter. Taken it as a compliment when it clearly wasn’t a compliment at all.

That was his reality now, to be the _almost_ Korean guy with the charming accent who stuttered so charmingly over every syllable. He might be able to polish his language skills, with hard work he might be able to shape them into almost perfection – but no further than that. 

Everything exiting his mouth would always be tinted with foreign _._ A slight flavor to his words that would always tell them he wasn’t quite one of them even though he wanted to be.

And some fans already had a problem with him. The haters. The ones questioning why a foreign guy had to come and snatch the slot in the group that rightfully belonged to a native. There’d always be someone, no matter how much love and praise he received, and maybe there’d be more of them with time.

The first tear forced its way down his cheek as he thought of that possibility. He cringed his coat off, and hid behind it as the second one emerged.

And at the other side of the car, Chan glanced over his shoulder. Pang after pang assaulted his chest when he saw the tuft of dusty blonde hair in the corner, all that was visible underneath the bundle of fabric. The little bundle that was Lee Felix, his friend, vibrating with suppressed sobs.

He wanted to help, he wanted to console. But once he edged himself closer they were suddenly at the dorms, and Felix shot up and scrambled outside before any of them could even say a word.

* * *

But really, why did Korean have to be so hard _?_

Felix shoved the earbud back in, cracked his knuckles and knitted his hands on top of the desk. The cool female voice spoke the phrase once more, annoyingly slowly and with indigenous ease. Almost like she was mocking him.

_Ahn-nyong-ha-se-yo._

He repeated it, once, twice, thrice and a dozen times over. But it didn’t sound right. Should be easy as pie, he’d learnt it ages ago. 

_How are you?_

And yet when he pronounced it, it was like his vocal cords rebelled against him, and it just came out...shaky. Shaky and coated with a thick layer of nervosity. Not at all pleasantly rhythmic, like it sounded when the rest of them said it.

When Chan said it.

Chan who had a hopeful glimmer in his eyes when they were kicking their shoes off in the hall earlier. Chan who looked like he wanted to say something – but Felix hadn’t even spared him a glance. Instead he’d fled, leaving lethal thorns sprouting in his wake, a spiky wall that effectively separated them. 

And because of that, Chan hadn’t followed him.

It wasn’t a competition. So why did Felix feel inferior? Less than his _friend_ , his role model.

“ _Ahn-nyong-ha-se-yo,_ ” he said stubbornly into thin air, and followed it up with a polite, toothy smile directed at the wall-mounted poster featuring all eight of them.

“I’m good. Could use a nap though. Or ten."

Felix swung around, and saw none other than Hyunjin, lingering in the doorway behind him.

“God, don’t sneak up on me like that...”

“Sorry,” the older boy grinned, not sounding remorseful in the slightest. "Are you...okay now? Not...upset still? The guys wanted to know if you wanted to come down for dinner..."

He let the words fizzle out. Felix just muttered something about _busy_ in response, even though he was perfectly aware that he owed everyone an apology. Especially Chan.

A sneaky tear forced its way out before he could stop it, quickly thumbed away before Hyunjin noticed. Felix wished he would just take the hint and leave him alone, but the opposite happened. After quietly chewing on his nail a moment he flopped down next to him, picking up the other earbud to have a listen, and wrinkled his nose the second after.</p>

“Ew. This chick sounds like a robot, you’ll fall asleep if you listen to this crap a second longer. I’ll teach you instead. Repeat after me. _Ahn-nyong-ha-se-yo_.”

He put emphasis on every syllable, pointing at his mouth as he was forming the sounds, and looked at Felix expectantly once he was done. It was fortunate for him that he was sweet like a newborn kitten, because otherwise he might just have been in danger of witnessing yet another raging meltdown.

Because Felix felt like a school kid being taught something incredibly basic. Something that he just couldn’t get the hang of, not for the love of him.

"Ahn-nyong-ha-se-yo,” he parroted reluctantly. Hyunjin gave an emthys nod. 

“Uhuh, see, easy peasy. Just need to work a little on pronounciation.”

“What do you mean a _little_ , needs massive work,” Felix sulked, dragging frustrated hands down his cheeks. He grabbed the earbuds again, pushing them back in with his teeth clenched. Time to learn this shit, no matter if it would take him the whole night.

“You're too hard on yourself,” came Hyunjin’s cottony voice from next to him after a moment. “You know...all of us will have to learn English better too, to be able to communicate with Stays. And you get to be the one to teach us then...and I’m crap at English. I swear. I can barely say, hey my name is Hyunjin, I like dogs.”

He exposed his teeth in one of his famous, lopsided grins, but Felix didn’t feel comforted at all.

“Dude...your English is fine, and we live in South Korea. Not in an English-speaking country. Learning Korean is more important.”

Hyunjin couldn’t come up with a counter argument to that dejected statement, so he chose to just pat Felix on the shoulder in reply. He was forced to give up the attempts at cheering him up, rising with a sigh after asking him for the second time if he wanted dinner – to which he received an impassive _no_. 

Felix had no time for dinner. He kept repeating the same damn sentences, until he hated their guts and his head throbbed with a looming headache. 

He leaned back in the chair, pressing his thumbs to his lids until the world was all black flimmer and dancing stars. Maybe it would be best to go downstairs to have dinner anyway. Just forget about this for now.

But he didn’t. 

Instead the laptop remained open, and his fingers moved over the touchpad, navigating to Twitter almost by themselves. He was just along for the ride, but he wasn’t in charge. Unwelcome fears mixed with pure curiosity took control over him, forcing him to move the cursor into the search box.

_Lee Felix...Lee Felix...Lee Felix…_

He flipped through pictures of himself. Professional ones and grainy ones shot by fans, ones where he smiled and ones where he cried and ones where he laughed. 

Ones where he and Chan were tightly entwined in a hug.

He soaked up the comments like a sponge – his chest heating up with gratitude when he saw all the superlatives, the words of praise describing _him._ Describing Lee Felix, k-pop idol, as cute and handsome and talented and...enough.

Enough. But then he reached a comment that stood out from the others, because it was written in caps lock. Caps lock with a lot of exclamation marks, which froze the calm serenity imbuing his chest into icy glaciers in a heartbeat.

_“LEE FELIX SHOULDN’T BE IN STRAY KIDS!!!!!!! Get him out of there, his Korean is shit and he’s not that good of a rapper. Just give someone else a shot.”_

He stared at the words intensely. So intensely that the pixels almost transformed into 3D on the screen, until his eyes watered from the strain and it had played a thousand times over in his head.

_Give someone else a shot._

There were other stating similar things, and he read them all, verdict after shattering verdict.

_Ugly._

_Bad dancer._

_Bad rapper._

_Sounds like a stuttering mess when he speaks._

_Stupid Aussie that should just piss off._

_...just piss off._

He shot up so hastily that the chair knocked over, threw himself on the bed, and then he cried.

Dusk was falling and gradually blanketing him with darkness as he pressed his face into the pillow, quietly sobbing into it. Everyone else were still downstairs, their faint chatter and laughter audible through the closed door. They were probably having dinner. Communicating effortlessly with each other in authentic sounding Korean.

And he should practice. Practice and not lay here like a useless lump, but he did. He pulled the duvet over himself, and the eyeliner he applied earlier ran down his cheeks, dissolved by the outpouring of tears.

His thoughts spiraled, because no one was there to stop them.

 _That_ day started replaying over and over like a flimsy film, a distorted scene from a nightmare, pulled out from the dark caves of his mind. The day he was _let go,_ only to be whisked back again later. But the hole it punched into his soul was still open and unpatched. 

And now he heard the words that sealed his fate again, crystal clear as if he was back in that room, sweating in front of the jury.

He was going home.

And he heard Chan trembling voice, the quiet, fragmented reassurances the moment after.

_Always find me. I’m not gonna leave you behind._

Chan who usually remained strong and stoic for the rest of them, always, but then even he had crumbled. Chan with his wide smile and wide shoulders and his arms that always were wide open for Felix and – _how_ could he have been so cruel to him earlier?

How.

 _Pull yourself together._

He attempted it, filling his lungs with air. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and he’d fucked it up once, he might fuck it up again and it would be _his fault –_

He broke. An unstoppable torrent starting somewhere in his gut ripped through his throat, and he let out an ear-splitting sob, followed by a whole shaky staccato of them. Soon he was nearly gagging, choking on the emerging snot and tears and crippling anxiety.

 _Just shut up,_ Felix. Shut up or else they’ll hear you.

He gathered the corner of the duvet into a bundle, pushing it into his mouth. It helped stifle the noises, but his chest kept rebelling against him. Each time he managed to level his breathing out another sob racked his lungs, until it was next to painful _._ He gave in, just letting the emotions flow freely, and soon he found himself in fetal position, with the soaked pillow pressed up against his nose.

The door creaked open, but he was too panicked to notice. The bed dipped next to him under the weight of his visitor, and fingers gripped his shoulder – slowly, slowly coaxing him into turning around. He squinted through the veil of tears, but the whole room just looked like a smudged collection of shadows and shapes. It was too dark, he couldn’t see shit.

But the warm, comforting timbre brushing close to his ear the next second told him who it was.

“Felix...baby...calm down.”

_Chan._

“I’m _sorry._ ”

He screwed his eyes shut, wrapping himself up tightly, knees pushed against his chest in a bid to shut the elder out. He didn’t want to look at him, _couldn’t –_ and apology after sobbing apology just kept falling out of him. In Korean at first, before he realized who he was talking to, and then he switched to English. He repeated it, over and over, _sorry, sorry_ , _hyung_ , _I’m so sorry._

Soon all that came out was a disjointed mess as he pushed his leaking nose into the mattress, indifferent to Chan's desperate tries to untangle his limbs and pull him into his lap.

“Lixie _, relax,_ it’s okay, calm down –”

“ _No_...just leave me be, I was so mean to you, what the _fuck_...”

He keened louder when remembering it, deaf to Chan's quiet reassurances. It wasn’t okay, and that realization stabbed his lungs until they were littered with bleeding wounds. 

“It’s _okay_ , baby. But I need you to calm down, so please listen to what I'm saying."

“No– no, no, no, just – just _leave –_ ”

"I'm not _leaving –"_

Felix's entire lithe frame shook, uncontrollably as his breathing turned increasingly rapid again. Chan disappeared momentarily after mumbling a low _damn it._ Next there was a click, and the room bathed in light.

“Felix, listen. You’re panicking, but you're alright. I've got you, just listen to me. When I count, I want you to take deep, slow breaths in and out, okay?” 

Felix just gurgled in response, but Chan repeated it, cooing at him and moving sweaty blonde strands out of his forehead, lightly as if he was made of glass.

“Alright, come on, you can do it…okay, one _..._ deep breath, now.”

Felix tried. He inhaled shakily, doing his best to push down the panic.

“Good...two…”

Chan's hand settled on his lower back, rubbing calming circles all over it. Felix exhaled again, receiving more humming in encouragement.

“Uhuh...three…”

Felix inhaled, deeply, his skin heating up underneath his shirt following Chan's gentle caressing.

“Four...and breathe.”

Felix exhaled. The soft, methodical flow of words loosened him up, muscle after stiff muscle. He let his hand rest on the mattress next to him, keeping his eyes shut. The second after he could feel slightly bigger fingers threading into his, followed by a soft, warm palm.

“Five. Good job. You’re okay, I’m here. Not mad at you.”

Felix took one last, strained breath before daring to raise his chin and look up, with swollen, tear-streaked eyes. He was met with the sight of Chan's face hovering just above him, his hair a little tousled and his eyes turning into slits as a smile spread across his face.

“Hey there,” he said softly, reaching a thumb out to remove a few dewy drops from Felix’s glossy cheeks.

“Hey.”

He was suddenly exhausted, his bones feeling like they weighed a thousand pounds each. Chan let his hand rest on Felix’s shoulder blades, absently stroking as he turned to glance behind him.

“He’s okay, guys. He’ll be fine, we’ll be downstairs soon, okay?” 

Felix managed to lift his head to peer around him, confused as to who he was talking to – and cringed when he saw the rest of the members, gathered in a little pile in the doorway, their facial expressions tense and concerned. Great. So he'd managed to worry them too. They scattered reluctantly after making certain he wasn’t in any immediate danger, shepherded down the stairs by Minho, and Chan turned his attention back to him with a sad smile.

"Are you okay now? Able to breathe? Nothing hurts?"

"No...just have a headache..."

“I bet. Hold on a moment...I'll get you some painkillers." 

He hurried off, and Felix remained splayed out, breathing into the mattress until he returned. Then, he was hauled into half-sitting, his mouth gently pried open as Chan shoved the pill in and helped him gulp some water to wash it down. He leaned back, keeping watch over Felix as they waited for it to take effect.

"Holy moly...you worried me, man. That was basically a panic attack. Is this something we need to deal with? Have you had these before?”

“No, I...I’m _sorry_ …”

“Shush. There's no need to be. Stop apologizing and come here.”

Chan settled against the headboard, arms open in invitation. Felix hesitated. It's not like he deserved any of that kindness and friendship right now. The guilt ripped at him again, ugly and raw and threatening to pull him into whatever dark pit he just crawled out of. 

His lip quivered, a lump blocked his throat again, and nothing slipped past Chan.

“Don't leave me hanging, dork. I said come _here_.”

Before he could resist, he was scooped up like he weighed nothing. Chan easily maneuvered him into position, one arm looped around his back and the other one around his waist. And then he drew him in, nose burrowed into his hair, and soothing him with streams of _it’s_ _okay_ when Felix squirmed weakly against him because he didn't deserve this.

But the smell that was so typically Chan was there, infused in his t-shirt, and his familiar voice was there, bringing him back on solid ground again. And all the parts of him that Felix adored, they were there too. Right there.

He gave in, finally, nestling into his chest while the pent up anxiety he’d felt earlier gradually dissipated. And Chan collected him, all the itty bitty pieces of him, built him up again until he was whole, and listened when he couldn’t keep another tearful apology at bay. And another one. And another.

His hyung listened, without judgement, wiping his face with the sleeve of his own shirt and offering unconditional love and affection as always.

“I didn’t mean a word of what I said earlier today, I was just...frustrated,” Felix choked out. Chan shushed him again.

“I know you didn’t...I know. So do the rest, and it's okay.”

He pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, sighing into the bleached head of hair.

“I don’t mean to sound condescending, when I’m trying to help you...I don’t want you to feel like that… like I'm trying to show off, because that's the last thing I –”

Chan's voice died out, his eyes stuck on something. Felix followed his gaze, and groaned inwardly when they landed on his laptop that was still open and showing the site he’d left it on. A picture of himself, ugly sobbing on the day he was eliminated, was plastered across the screen. Chan carefully moved him out of his lap and took a seat next to him instead, digging narrowed eyes into him.

“Felix. Did you intentionally go looking for negative stuff about yourself again?” 

There was no answer, but it’s not like it even mattered. It was obvious, the evidence was right there. Wide open on his desk.

Felix just stared blankly ahead, a small, distressed whimper slipping his lips. His white t-shirt collar was wet with tears and smudged with eyeliner, and Chan sighed in disappointment. Not at Felix, but at himself.

He should have come to check on him sooner.

And damn that kid. Right now he was ready to just slam the laptop shut and throw it in the trash, to prevent him from ever deliberately seeking out hate comments again. He was well familiar with what people wrote, and the thought of his friend reading them to the point of having a crying outburst escalating into a full-blown panic attack made his heart ache.

He inched closer, brushing a thumb over the younger boy’s cheek when he lowered his head in shame.

"Don't look at those comments, please. Just think about the ones praising you and nothing else."

"Yeah, but...they think I should get kicked out...and what if the company changes their mind, what if I never learn Korean properly, what if –" 

“No, no. You won't get kicked out of the group. We're a team now...the company wouldn't do that to you. And the fans don't have any say in whether you stay or go."

"But...I want the fans to _like me_...if I don't improve fast enough the criticism will just keep pouring in and...I just want them to accept me."

He whispered it into Chan's shirt, voice stripped and vulnerable. Chan separated them, studying his face. The high cheekbones, the string of faint freckles across his nose, the ones the makeup artist sometimes covered. There was no need for that, they were gorgeous. Unique, just like him, and he was ambitious. How insane was it to realize that a person of that caliber, with that amount of talent was here, right in front of Chan, his tearful gaze lowered and fragile ego mutilated by online trolls.

And it made Chan furious and squeezed his lungs painfully all at the same time because he knew exactly how it felt. 

"Felix. There'll always be people who don't like you, that's just idol life. But for every person who has an issue with you, there's a thousand people who adore you and see how hard you're working. Ignore the mean comments. Please?"

"How can I do that...the fans are important to us," Felix muttered. Chan snorted. _Fans, huh_.

"Those people aren't fans. They're just haters, real fans would never say things like that. Hell, I will take your laptop away if I have to, got it? You don’t have anything to be ashamed of, you speak two languages for christ’s sake. The haters should be jealous of you. Don’t focus on what they say, it’s just...it’s not true. They don’t know anything. You’re so talented and important to me, to the group, and just...please. Don’t keep it inside, don’t..."

He paused briefly, peading coal eyes fixed on Felix.

"...don't shut me out.”

He looked exactly like he had that day when the hammer fell, when both of their facial expressions fell. When they found out Felix was going home. When his adam's apple shook as he was trying to keep steady, when he assured Felix he wouldn't leave him, never. It had hurt then, and it hurt now.

It hurt Felix even more that he was the culprit this time. But Chan was still smiling, his hand sneaking to Felix's face again to wipe off remnants of eyeliner, his eyes crinkling as if he was looking at someone dear.

Like he was looking at _family._

It was enough to help put Felix at ease, a huge weight falling from his shoulders. Helped him realize that maybe this couldn't be ruined.

Maybe not by anything. 

“I won’t. I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. Don't be sorry. But I'm here for you. Always."

Felix nodded, managing a genuine smile that made Chan sigh with relief. He bounced up, striding to the other end of the room to rummage through the closet a while.

“Change your shirt,” he ordered when he was done. “You didn’t have dinner yet, want to go downstairs? Or what do you want to do? Just say the word and we’ll do it.”

“Need to study more Korean,” Felix muttered while cringing himself out of his soaked t-shirt and into the fresh one thrown in his face. Chan snorted, his quirked brows clearly signaling _I'm older_ and _don’t even try to_ _argue_. It was useless to even try to make it past that wall of determination. Still, Felix did his best to look sour, grumpily crossing his arms, but Chan just raised a pointed finger in response to that.

“No, no you really don’t. Hyunjin said you already busted your ass with that for hours. No more Korean for now, let’s watch something. Something...English. On Netflix. Or hey!” 

His face lit up, and he practically bounced on the spot like an excited kid. 

“Let’s watch Crocodile Dundee!”

Felix was so taken aback that he forgot to look surly for a moment. “Crocodile Dundee? Are you _ancient?_ I didn’t know you were alive during the stone age.”

“Yah. That’s Australian national treasure you’re talking about. Classics never age.”

Felix grinned wickedly, and Chan gave a low _hmmpfh a_ s he followed him, grumbling under breath as they descended the stairs.

“Brat. I’ve never been so offended in my life. We’re watching it, and that’s that.” 

Felix chuckled quietly, rays of warmth traveling through him when Chan threw an arm around him. One that he didn’t slap away this time. 

“Jesus, fine. You win, grandpa. Let’s watch Crocodile Dundee.”


End file.
